


The Office

by Foreverwriting123



Series: Batman X Reader Series [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Casual office sex, Clark is rude af, F/M, Seductive Bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 05:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6788140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreverwriting123/pseuds/Foreverwriting123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>As you do so, you notice a few people are very excited, as if something happened, probably another batman or Superman dilemma, or even better, another estranged celebrity has decided to waltz into the building.</i><br/> <br/><i>Your mind racked with too many ideas of what your mother would do, or even what personal space she would interrogate this time. Every thing drilled into your head as you bunches on your heels, pulling at your delicately painted fingernails before the elevator doors open.</i></p><p>  <i>All at once, you gasp. But not at the sight of your mother, oh no, but rather at the sight of Bruce Wayne who wears a stone cold expression which matches his black Armarni suit.</i></p><p> </p><p>After you last meeting with Bruce Wayne, you never expected him to show up uninvited...surely what could possibly go wrong with his unexpected visit?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Office

**Author's Note:**

> So I got bored after intense studying so I said I'd surprise ye all to another story!  
> Thank you all for the wonderful support, it has given me so much confidence to share my work, no matter what genre to you all! I hope you all enjoying it as much as I enjoy writing it! :) x

“Y/N! Where the hell is your article?! For god’s sake woman you know by now you need to hand it in on time in order to print it! Even Clark gets it and he’s only been here for half a year!” Perry snarls in front of the entire office while everyone buzzes around, filing and printing their latest articles. 

Flustered, you look up, biting your lower lip. “Sir, I am so sorry, I thought- “

“Stop apologising and just send the god damn article! Y/, you’ve been slacking off lately and this is not good! If you continue to carry on like this I may have to fire you..”

The words hit you like a hard smack across you face as you look up horrified. It seems Perry is taking this all too seriously and now even a few other heads, including Lois Lane, stare up with the same bleak expression. You just can't help but feel the urge to crawl into a hole and disappear off the face of the earth forever.

“I’ll send it on right away..” You mumble as you continue back to your work, trying hard to ignore Perry’s glare.

Even though Perry is right, you don’t want to admit that the past few days have been strange. Ever since your encounter with Bruce, you’ve managed to send a couple of text messages back and forth and you have been slacking off your articles, while drifting off to the thoughts of seeing Bruce again. 

He has informed you that he is busy with conferences and other issues involving Wayne Enterprise Inc, but he does want to see you again. As his last text message said:

**_'I need to finish what I started’_ **

But still, even if this does leave mixed messages, you do not fret. You trust Bruce. You know he won’t actually finish you off like that. He simply couldn’t throw you away like that...or could he?

Bruce is known for his ways with the ladies, maybe you could just be a little side dish to what he normally enjoys. Besides, he really hasn’t shown that much interest in you, besides from the sex. 

Even though the text messages are something, they aren’t exactly from a proper saved number but rather from a blocked number. You only know it’s him with his personal touch of initials at the end of each message. 

What is he hiding that he doesn’t want you to see? Your mind rattles with so many ideas while you tap your pen on the desk. What if he has a wife? No, that’s impossible, he never wore a ring and it was never mentioned in any of the articles you read previous to your encounter. 

But he could have a girlfriend, someone he truly devotes his time to, someone he kisses so tenderly and whispers his seductive thoughts to. Someone he actually loves.

Love. What a strange word. Putting Bruce and love into the same sentence brings a strange taste on your tongue. You wonder if he has ever felt this sensation, to actually love someone like one of those male leads in those soppy cliché movies.

You do not realise that your continuous tapping has caused Clark Kent stand over your desk. He stares at you through his thick framed glasses, but it’s not a look of anger, but perhaps sympathy.

You slouch down in your chair and apologise. “I’ve just been extremely busy lately, which has caused me to get a bit tense,” you explain as he stands close by your desk.

Looking up at him, this Clark Kent is rather tall to say the least. With a sharp jawline that could probably cut someone with and cobalt blue eyes, and not to mention his bulging muscles underneath his checkered shirt, he simply smirks at you before saying, “Don’t let the work get to you, just take a deep breather. I could get Lois to tell Perry to cut you some slack if you want?”

Although it is a very kind gesture, you simply decline on the purposes that you will eventually get back on top of things, and honestly, you don’t need help from the likes of Clark Kent. Clark Kent had already gotten you into trouble, it’s bad enough he’s actually offering you help.

Once Clark returns back to his own work, you return to your own article on the recent bank robberies. You have it all typed and edited, it just needs to be sent to Perry for printing. But looking at it now, you are unsure about the content.

This case does seem rather odd but what seems completely strange is the fact the case involves the money being returned back to the bank the next day. Odds have been placed on the famous batman being responsible for delivering the money back safely but you can’t help but feel the police force are only placing their bets on this caped crusader due to his popularity. 

In your opinion, you don’t see the big deal with him. He has caused more trouble in this city rather than helped. 

And what infuriates you more is the glory and honour he receives, along with superman. These two forces are rather prone to causing more issues than intended and at this point that’s all you have to report on, rather than your want to focus on the bigger, more impprtant issues like climate change and the refugee crisis. 

But this is the perk of working with the Daily Planet. It’s the newspaper that only ever focusses on theses two caped men.

You divert your gaze to the screen one last time before saying _'Screw it!'_ and send the article to Perry. Immediately a sarcastic ‘thank you’ booms from Perry’s office. “Now start your next two articles I assigned, they’re in your inbox if you can’t find them.”

Groaning, you open up to see your next articles involve you writing about a charity drive and a crime report on what appears to be another case involving batman. Honestly could he not fight crime for one or two months of peace?!

But while you complain about your latest articles, a worker/colege walks over to your desk. “I’m sorry to interrupt you Y/N but there seems to be someone waiting for you at reception.”

Oh great. More trouble to come. Obviously it could be your over enthusiastic country folk mother on a visit, and if it was, well, all you could say is that it wouldn’t go down too well…

Pacing yourself, you dread the unexpected invasion of privacy from your mother as you press the ground floor button on the elevator.  
As you do so, you notice a few people are very excited, as if something happened, probably another Batman or Superman dilemma, or even better, another estranged celebrity has decided to waltz into the building.

Your mind, racked with too many ideas of what your mother would do, or even what personal space she would interrogate this time,starts to play out all the possibilities. Every thing drills into your head as you pull at your delicately painted fingernails before the elevator doors open.

All at once, you gasp. But not at the sight of your mother, oh no, but rather at the sight of Bruce Wayne who wears a stone cold expression which matches his black Armarni suit.

Holding your shoulders back, you try to walk calmly towards the reception desk, acting like you really are at the top of your game. If only you had a few files tucked under your arms, now that would impress Bruce. 

As you walk over, you catch the scent of his usual aftershave and oh boy does he smell good. He sits on one of the black lounge sofas, staring down at his phone. Only when you are close does he glance up. You expect him to smile at you but instead he still looks like he wants to punch someone.

Standing up, he starts walks over to you as you stand at the reception desk, mentally preparing yourself to what you’ll sat, especially what you’ll say about your last encounter.

You turn and pierce your lips together, trying your hardest to smile as if this man is nothing more than a stranger who just happens to need your services. “Oh Mr.Wayne, what a pleasant surprise! I wasn’t expecting- “

He interrupts you, leaning in to growl, “We need to talk. Now. In a more private setting.” 

Unsure how to take his reaction, you just nod and lead him to the elevator. To say the tension is unbearable is an understatement. You know he’s probably only here to demand you give back his precious car or perhaps even end this all and that in fact, he does have someone else.

Stepping into the elevator, you press the button to your floor in the hopes of finding the printing room free.

There is silence as you both stand still, Bruce locking his hands together looking rather bored.

It takes you a few moments of anticipated courage to convince yourself to be the first to speak. 

“So what brings you here Mr.Wayne?”

“Oh fuck it-” he speaks and before you know it, he pushes you to the wall and he has got both of your hands in his viselike grip above your head, and he's pinning you to the wall using his lips. His other hand grabs your hair and yanks down, bringing your face up, and his lips are on yours.

Your eyes are wide open as his effortless motion seduces you in ways you never expected to feel. But as he feels your presence you can’t help but push him away.

He now stares back at you with wide eyes and an agape mouth. 

“What was that for?” You spit, tidying your hair back into place. “You can’t just waltz in here at my workplace and expect me to just take off my clothes!” 

Your fury is causing you to be more aggressive than you ever thought you’d be, especially in front of him.

But instead of him getting angry by your reaction, he simply laughs.

“What’s so funny?!” You arch your eyebrow.

“I love it when women get feisty..” His voice is cool and seductive while you stand, arms folded.

“Oh so you think every woman you sleep with will instantly obey your every word and crouch to suck your billionaire -”

The elevator door suddenly opens and you find yourself standing, mortified as Clark Kent stands by the door. He asks defensive, like he never heard your conversation, especially the last part. He just looks at Bruce and then interjects, “Oh sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Bruce answers for you. “No, actually miss L/N asked me to come down here for a quick interview… “ he then eyes you before replying with a glint of sarcasm, “isn’t that right miss?”

“Yes, on the ongoing issue with his company’s surplus earning and how his charity event has already made such a difference…”

Clark only stares, not entirely convinced. “But I thought we already wrote a piece on his contribution to his firm…”

“Ah well yes we did but this is for another piece. Perry urgently wants it done.” You ignore Clark’s indecisive cold stare while leading Bruce out of the elevator.

Avoiding everyone’s gaze in the office as heads turn to see Bruce Wayne in the flesh, you bring him down towards some place more private. 

“Is that Bruce Wayne?!”

“Why is he here?”

“Why is he with Y/N?”

There is a snigger, “Must be pretty desperate”

He doesn’t take heed of the comments as Bruce just follows your lead as you drag him into the printing room. 

Once you are both inside and the coast is clear, you lock the door. Bruce stands, noticing the tight cramped room full of large size printers.

“If I actually owned this company I wouldn’t have placed all these printers in this small room,” he smirks as he leans against one.

“Stop changing the topic, why are you here? Why invade my personal privacy like this when the last time we were together you decided to ditch me for your important meeting, or should I say your other girl…”

Now he perks up. “What did you just say?”

You don’t know you have the courage to ever speak up like this to a man, especially to a man who could easily sue you for your life earnings. 

“You heard me, you can’t come in here when I know I’m not the only one. You never call, besides from your stupid mundane texts and your simplicity to act like everything is fine, do you treat every woman like this?!” 

He wants to say something but you continue. Now that you have his attention, you can’t help but rail on.

“I mean what did you expect me to do after that night? I had no other lift home so I just thought ‘hey why not steal this rich guy's car?!’ and that’s what I did, and if you want it back, fine, I’ll give it to you. I’ll even pay for the amount of time I drove it, but then again, I did pay for the diesel-”

With all your rambling you do not notice him come closer. He now places two fingers over your lips and whispers, “I’m not here for the car.”

Now you stare up, truly mortified by your moment of intense argumental talk. But all you think about is those eyes staring back at you. 

His eyes are the colour of earth kissed by spring rains, the hue that promises to stir life from dormant seeds, the nascent plants guided upward by the light before blossoming into the vibrant colours of a new season. Those eyes that promise life yet seem to hide a glimpse of remorse.

He continues to stare down, now placing his rough hands on the lower part of your back.

“I actually came to check on you..” He stares down as you can feel his breath against your neck. “I felt I should make up for the last minute departure last time..”

He then starts to place small pecks agaisnt your neck, trailing up and down in slow motion, allowing you to truly appreciate every moment.

“You do know we can’t do this here. I’m already close to being fired by my boss,” you sharply reply to his gesture as you try to push away, but his clutch keeps you close to his side.

“Screw them,” he breathes and he then leans in and kisses you full on the lips. 

As your moist lips meet, Bruce pulls you in closer. You suddenly have the urge to loosen his tie as fast as you can. It is like a thick vine against your fingertips and once it’s undone, you fling it out of your way.

You let out a gasp of relief as he pulls you towards the wall as you rapidly kiss. He kisses everywhere, your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, the nip of your bare chest, everywhere.

Your head is spinning as he wraps his fingers around your tousled hair. You start to relax and join in with his fun, wrapping your hands around his neck. It is all going well as you suddenly let out a moan with passion.

Bruce starts to quickly unbutton your shirt and grab at your flesh as you place yourselves now against on of the printers.

You giggle against his lips as you start to take off his suit jacket. The thought of you actually doing this here makes you feel anxious yet exhilarated all at the same time.

You caress his stubbly cheek while tugging your nails into his side. His stats to edge down towards your black pencil skirt and gingerly pulls it down, leaving it dangle between your ankles. He suddenly pushes you up closer as he starts to dig into your sides, bringing you closer and closer.

You are both oblivious to everything around you as you pull each other closer, both wanting more and more.

"I am so glad you came,” you breathe huskily as you rub your hands down his side.

Soon you start playing with his shirtsleeves, gingerly sliding them up one by one.  
But as soon as you do, you both have to stop and sit upwards, your hair sweeping across your face as you disturb the motion.

“What seems to be the problem dear?” He asks and then he hears it too. 

There is someone knocking at the door. 

“Oh shit!” you both grumble at the same time. 

“Um, excuse me but I need to print some very important documents,” the voice echoes throughout the room. You curse to yourself. Of course it had to be Clark Kent.

“Come on quick,” you snap, helping him fix his tie and put back on his coat while he pulls up your skirt and button up your shirt.

Before you go to the door, he stops you by grabbing your arm. “Wait,” he smirk, “you got a little something on your lips,” his hand trails up to touch them. His fingernail digs in remove a small speck. 

“You better leave once I open the door, we can’t have everyone turning their heads at this sight,” you lean in to whisper into his ear.

“But what if I want everyone to know,” he smiles back and now you wonder if he is taking this seriously. If you get caught with a man like Bruce in a place like this, of course heads would turn, and you don’t what Perry to know. If he found out what happened, you surely would be fired.

Now you turn and brace yourself for Clark’s sudden intrusion as you unlock the door. As you expected, he stands arms folded holding files in his hand. 

“Thanks,” he smiles, before heading into the room. Talking aloud to both of you, oblivious to Bruce’s cold hard stare he asks, “So how’s the interview?” 

You can both immediately sense his sarcasm hang in the air as he presses a few buttons before the printer comes to life.

You now glance at Bruce, who leans against the wall, already reaching into his pocket for his phone. “So far it’s been excellent, I must say Y/N is an excellent journalist” 

You blush at his compliment but remain to stay stone cold while Clark continues to engage in the conversation. “Of course someone like her would be brilliant, she works for the best newspaper agency around.”

You're surprised to hear Clark sincerely compliment you that. Usually he only cares for his girlfriend’s work so it’s odd to hear him say something like that.

You don’t know what to say but cough. “Look Mr.Wayne, thank you for your time, I know how busy you are so I appreciate your spare time.”

Now Bruce stares and thankfully, gets your hint to depart. He comes over and shakes your hand firmly. “Thank you for your time Miss L/N . I look forward to hearing from you.”

You arch your eyebrow. “Oh so there will be a next time?”

He smugly replies, “Of course, we need to finish off this very important interview, “ and winks before walking away as you catch one last scent of his luxurious aftershave. 

You don’t know how to explain the twist in your stomach as you watch him leave. You yearn to just screw this job and run to catch up with him in the elevator and finish what you started. 

Oh god why did he leave you always feeling like this? His mysterious sense and exhilarating presence often causes you to always question, yet desire him at all once and at this point it seems rather exhausting to keep up this questioningly experience.

Your attention turns back to Clark, who now has finished printing but simply stares at you disapprovingly. 

“What?” 

“Nothing...it’s just..”

“Spit it out Clark.”

He shrugs and wipes his glasses with his sleeve. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“Why? Because I wanted to interview Mr.Wayne here?”

“No..” His tone is sharp. “I’m surprised that you actually want to risk everything for him. I know him Y/N and he’s not good business, he’s unnecessary trouble a girl like you don’t need.”

“What did you just say?”

You don't watch him as he heads for the door, so you flinch when he whispers into your ear, “Stay away from him Y/N. He’s not worth your time.”

Then the door clicks shut behind you and suddenly the feeling heaving your chest is not stimulation but rather dread.


End file.
